When Michelle Mascaro and Corynne Romine, of Oak Park, adopted their daughter, Emma, through Lutheran Child and Family Services in 1996, the nonreligious child welfare agency that gave them a foster care license hid the fact that they were a lesbian couple.

"It was very clear that I was the adoptive parent and Michelle was the other supportive adult living in the household -- and that's how we had to present ourselves," Romine said. "It wasn't that we tried to hide something. I didn't feel at the time I had any choices."

But by going along with the charade on the day Emma was born in a rural hospital in southern Illinois, Mascaro said she broke a promise to herself.

"When I came out, I vowed I would never be in the closet," Mascaro recalled.

"The only time I've done it was at the hospital for Emma. That was it, and that was important to do. ... Whatever it takes, they're first," she said of her children.

For the subsequent adoptions of their two sons, David and Joseph, Mascaro and Romine went through an agency that honestly portrayed their relationship. Both boys were delivered at Chicago hospitals.

Raised in the Missouri Synod Lutheran Church and educated in a Lutheran seminary, Mascaro isn't surprised by the prohibition on openly gay parents. Neither is Romine, who was raised Southern Baptist and attended divinity school.

Both women came to terms with their sexual orientation during their religious training. They met while working as hospital chaplains.

At one time, Romine even worked in post-adoption services for Catholic Charities.

"I was very aware that we could not have adopted there ... and that's not likely to change," Romine said. "I enjoyed what I did in post-adoption (services), but I was firm that I couldn't work in adoption for that reason. It's not fair to anybody. It leaves out a pool of people who would want to adopt and have the potential to be good parents. And it underserves birth parents who might be needing to place a child."

When they met Emma's birth mother, they discovered she shared their fear of rejection. While they had been warned no one would choose a lesbian couple to adopt, she was told no one wanted to adopt a black child.

Mascaro and Romine said being mothers has transformed their lives.

"It changes your perspective on how the world works," Mascaro said. "They (foster children) come fully formed. It's the most amazing thing. They're completely hard-wired. The challenge is to figure out how you handle each one and how each one is different.

"There is this kind of healing of your own self, that you just sort of say, 'Oh, well, it's OK for me to be different ... because I'm wired like that.' You can only hope what you make possible is going to help them be their best selves."